Although the house had a drive and attached garage, there was no room to park. A small red Honda Civic that he recognised as the cleaner’s car was parked immediately in front of the garage. A sleek grey Saab was badly parked behind it, sitting askew and taking up a lot of the room. There was nothing for it but to park against the kerb.
He saw a woman with fair hair come rushing out of the house, get in it and back out. Although there was enough room to park a ten ton truck, she’d barely missed one of the gateposts as she’d backed out, spun round in the road and sped off, tyres squealing in protest.
Edwina Cayford answered the door.
‘I’ve come to speak to Mr Tern. Is he available?’
‘Oh yes,’ she said in a hushed voice. Her face was quite pink, as though somebody had said something quite rude and she was still embarrassed.
‘I’ll take you through and then perhaps we can speak later?’
He said that of course they could if she liked. There was something about her tone that made it sound urgent. He wondered what it was.
He asked her if the old man was well.
‘Very well. Better than I thought. Certainly well enough to use a mobile phone and...’ She shook her head. ‘I’ll tell you about it later. That man...’ She shook her head again. ‘Never mind that for now. In here.’
The room in which Mr Arnold Tern was sitting smelled of tasty stodge. The curtains were half drawn against the sunlight.
Doherty assumed the old man had had macaroni cheese for lunch, but he could have been wrong. Lasagne smelled pretty much the same.
The old man looked up when he entered. ‘Oh. It’s you.’ Both his expression and his tone were disdainful. ‘You’re not going to tell me that you’re apprehended my son’s murderer, are you?’
‘I’m afraid not.’
‘No. I didn’t think so.’
‘But we are making some progress, though I can’t give you any details at this moment in time.’
Arnold Tern scowled. ‘In other words you haven’t a clue!’
‘That’s not really what I’m saying...’
‘Never mind. Never mind. Now listen my good man. A lady has just left this house who knew my son better than most. Her name’s Caroline Corbett. She’s the woman he should have married, but there...that’s water under the bridge. Caroline was the closest any woman ever got to my son. She came here today to tell me she’d suspected he was having more than one affair when he was still in a relationship with her. So she hired a private detective to follow him, and that my friend is the path we should go down,’ declared the old man, wagging his finger at Doherty as though he was a schoolboy. My son had a secret life, a sordid life in fact.’
‘Are you going to tell me what this detective found out, Mr Tern?’
‘A row of yellow teeth jutted forward from a face and jaw swiftly taking on skeletal proportions.
‘Caroline hired a private detective to follow him. The same one Edwina used to find out what her cheating husband was up to as it works out. His name is Reggie Foreman. Edwina can give you his card and contact details. His report is there. Caroline left it here.’
A bony finger pointed at a manila file sitting on a side table.
Doherty picked it up. It wasn’t like him to feel jittery, but Rachel and her boyfriend’s arrival had upset his concentration.
Forcing himself to focus on the job in hand, he opened the folder and scanned the report. None of the activities Nigel Tern had indulged in came as much of a surprise. That fact was more down to Doherty having seen enough of the world to know how it was rather than his appraisal of the man in question.
Nigel Tern had liked women. He’d also liked sex. A lot of sex. With lots of different women. OK, that was no big deal. What was a little unusual was the fact that he’d belonged to a large number of sex clubs. Doherty knew there were a few in the city, but not as many as this. There was everything here from clubs for swingers to sadomasochism and bondage. The bondage drew his attention.
Doherty pursed his lips.
‘Your son liked to dress up and play at being tied up.’
And not just as Adam Ant, he thought to himself.
‘Yes. Especially in leather.’
The old man’s voice was as thin as a reed, yet full of condemnation.
‘You will see there is a membership list for his favourite club – the Shammy Leather.’
‘So I see.’
‘Do you know that club, inspector?’
Doherty replied that indeed he did. It was members only, catering for people who enjoyed dressing up in leather; not all over leather, just strategically placed bits and pieces. He understood a bit of disciplinary practice went on too – which is probably where the gallows might have come in; not for all alone sex, but for something anyone could join in with.
‘You will see that Caroline’s investigator managed to acquire a copy of the members’ list.’
Doherty scrutinised the flimsy piece of paper. A few notable names leapt out at him.
‘You will see that one of my employees – who will shortly become an ex employee – is on that list.’
Doherty dragged his attention from a few other names and onto another that he’d spotted. Stavros Pappendriou, the man who had declared his intention to become a self employed online purveyor of select items to a select clientele – leather items.
‘You suspect Mr Pappendriou of having murdered your son?’
‘It’s patently obvious, or at least it became so once Grace Pauling had informed me of my son’s intention to invest in Mr Pappendriou’s on line business after my death, including giving him a slice of his inheritance. Unfortunately for Nigel and Mr Pappendriou, I am still here and Nigel is gone. It is my considered opinion that Mr Pappendriou murdered my son. Grace agrees with me.’
‘Miss Pauling told you that?’
‘Yes. She did. The new will was supposed to have already been drawn up, signed, sealed and delivered even though I was still alive. At least my son had told Mr Pappendriou that. Miss Pauling informs me that she had not completed the draft, so it appears my son lied.’
Doherty frowned. ‘Not a very nice gesture, drawing up a will even before you’ve inherited.’
‘Not NICE at all, my good man.’
‘And you’re sure the Will wouldn’t come into force unless you had died and passed on your inheritance to your son?’
Mr Tern frowned. ‘Quite correct, detective inspector; I too would have to be disposed of. I think my son was drugging me with a view to despatching me to the hereafter. I always felt better on the days when Edwina was here preparing my food.’
‘And on the other days?’
‘My son arranged to cook or have something sent in. He had access to everything.’
Doherty closed the file.
‘But that would mean that Mr Pappendriou jumped the gun. What was the point in him killing your son if you were still alive?’
A sickly grin yet again exposed the old man’s yellow teeth.
‘I believe my son told him that I was already dead, hence the celebration that night. It wasn’t just about winning the competition. It was also celebrating my death.’
Doherty shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Tern, but I think your analysis is flawed, though the business about the will is interesting.’
The old man’s brow furrowed with wrinkles.
‘At least I have thought through an analysis which is more than I can say for the police!’
Doherty couldn’t help disliking the old man. So far he’d seen no sign that he’d cared for his son. For that reason alone there was one question he just had to ask, though cloaked as an observation.
‘You didn’t seem to like your son very much.’
‘Not really. He was not an obedient son. No matter how much I might take the belt to him, he never listened. Defiant. Rebellious. That was the way he was.’
Doherty found himself imagining a young boy being beat into submission.
�
��Wasn’t that a bit heavy handed?’
‘He got the same treatment at boarding school. That’s the way it was back then when he was at school. None of this mamby pamby kid glove nonsense! The school believed in making a man of him and so did I.’
Doherty found himself disliking the man even more.
‘You will investigate?’
The old man sounded demanding. Doherty said he would do what he could. From somewhere along the hallway outside he could hear the purr of a vacuum cleaner.
‘Your cleaner is here today?’
‘Yes. She’s agreed to come and work for me full time. I need the company. I need a nurse and besides I pay her twice as much as what she earned working for the National Health Service.’
‘Do you mind if I speak to her?’
‘Not at all. Contrary to my less than convivial relationship with my son, I do wish for his killer to be brought to justice. It’s a matter of principle.’
Of course it was. Doherty nodded and got to his feet. He asked if he could have the file drawn up by the private investigator. Mr Tern told him he could.
‘Now that your son’s dead, everything goes to Grace Pauling, is that correct?’
‘Indeed it is. Her father was my partner and his father was my father’s partner. If I die and my son is unable to inherit, everything goes to Grace. We’re like one big happy family, inspector.
Doherty shuddered at the thought. What a family!
It was interesting to know that Grace Pauling inherited. Normally she would have been interviewed quite thoroughly about the murder, but seeing as she was in a wheelchair, there was hardly much point.
A thought came to him that made him pause before going out to speak to the nurse.
‘Are you going to stay on in this house, Mr Tern? It’s quite a large house, I think.’
Again that creepy grin exposed the yellow teeth.
‘Indeed I am, inspector. In fact I may even consider getting married again.’
Edwina Cayford didn’t hear him approach and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw him.
‘You gave me such a fright,’ she exclaimed after she’d turned off the vacuum cleaner.
‘I’m sorry. You said you wanted to see me before I left. Is now convenient?’
She nodded silently. ‘I don’t think I know anything of interest as such, it’s just a small thing that might have some bearing on the case. Would you like a cup of tea?’
He declined her offer stating that he was off out to dinner that night and didn’t have much time.
He sensed she was nervous. He guessed it had something to do with past experience with the police.
‘This way to the kitchen.’
‘Do you have children?’
He thought he detected her shoulders freeze for the briefest of moments.
She answered him over her shoulder. ‘Yes. A girl and two boys.’
‘Are they still at home with you?’
She shook her head. She had her back to him so he couldn’t see her expression.
‘No. My daughter is married and my boys work away from home. Joe has a baby girl. He keeps saying he’s going to get married, but he hasn’t done it yet. I wish he would. I don’t approve of living together and having children without being properly married, do you?’
‘I suppose not.’
It wasn’t much of an answer. Quite honestly he was divided on the subject. He wasn’t sure he wanted Rachel married with a child, at least not to Carl Tompkins. On the other hand, he wouldn’t want her living with him in similar circumstances. In fact he didn’t want her with him at all.
But that was personal. He needed to focus.
‘How well did you know Mr Nigel?’
‘He was my employer. He took me on to tend to the house and Mr Arnold.’
‘It was him who took you on, not Mr Arnold?’
‘That’s right. Don’t mind if I have a cup of tea, do you? I’m gasping.’
She wiped her hands down her overall. He watched as she filled the kettle with water, switched it on and put a teabag into a mug.
‘Did you like Mr Nigel?’
She shrugged. ‘I can’t say one way or another. We didn’t sit down and talk over a cup of tea or anything and he didn’t bother me much. He was always dashing around; dashing off to the shop, dashing off to meet friends during the day. I’m not sure what he got up to at night. I wasn’t here at night, not like I am now.’
‘You’re here at night now?’
She nodded. ‘Mr Arnold made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. He’s paying me double what I was getting working at the hospital and that on top of the original wage he was paying me.’
‘That’s very generous of him.’ He didn’t disclose that Mr Arnold had already told him so.
‘Yes. Very generous.’
She didn’t sound that convinced, either that or something was worrying her.
Doherty thought he knew the reason why.
‘Are there strings attached, Mrs Cayford?’
‘I don’t know what you mean!’
She obviously did know. Even a dark skin can flush quite pink when somebody was embarrassed.
‘I mean has Mr Arnold made sexual overtures.’
Edwina Cayford looked at the floor. She was frowning.
‘Not in the way you’re thinking. Not quite what I was expecting either.’
Still frowning, she looked up at him. ‘He bought me a new television. I said I needed a television more than I needed a man. I never expected him to buy me one, but he did. I was amazed. Absolutely amazed.’
‘Is this the first time he’s been so generous?’
She nodded. ‘More or less.’
Doherty sensed there was something else.
‘What else?’
She looked at him with her big brown eyes. ‘He’s asked me to marry him.’
Doherty pursed his lips. ‘Congratulations. Are you considering his offer?’
She shrugged and looked terribly worried. ‘I got married once and didn’t like it. This time it would be different, but still...I have my family to think of...’
Doherty nodded affably. Mr Arnold’s offer of marrying Mrs Cayford had surprised him. Still, if an old man was lonely...
‘Did Mr Nigel ever make sexual overtures to you?’
She shook her head. ‘No. He did not.’
‘Did a man named Gunther Mahone ever visit here?’
Edwina thought about it only momentarily before shaking her head.
‘I don’t think so, but then I didn’t know the name of every visitor who came here.’
‘Were there many visitors you did know?’
She tilted her head and shrugged her shoulders, her plump lips pouting as she considered the question.
‘Not really. Mr Arnold discourages visitors, especially relatives. Not that they’ve got that many I think. Or friends for that matter, although there did seem to be a few more when Mr Arnold was ill. The old man was out of it, so I think Mr Nigel did have people in.’
‘But you don’t know who they were?’
She shook her head. ‘No, though I do know there were about ten people arriving one evening.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘He asked me to do the catering – you know – a finger buffet – ham rolls, filled vol au vents, cocktail sausages and things. I asked for how many and he said I should allow for ten people.’
‘You didn’t stay on to serve these guests?’
‘No. In fact he told me to go early because he had things to prepare.’
‘You don’t know what things.’
She shook her head again. ‘No, except that he did spend some time down in the cellar. That’s where he keeps the wine.’
‘What about Caroline Corbett, the woman I saw leaving when I arrived? Has she been here before?’
‘I think she has, but only when Mr Nigel was here. She seemed nice.’
‘Do you know where she lives?’
‘I think
she has one of those flats above the shop. They’re very nice. Mr Nigel took me there once to do some cleaning. I think it might have been her flat. They’d had a party.’
Doherty thanked her for her time. Asking her about Gunther Mahone had been a long shot, but he’d had his reasons. Gunther’s name was on the membership list of the Shammy Leather club only the investigator had made a mistake. Gunther wasn’t a member in the strictest sense. He owned it.
When the policeman had gone, Edwina sat down in a chair and called herself a fool. She had not mentioned what she’d intended mentioning to him and he hadn’t referred to the message she’d left at the station. If he had done, her suspicions would have come flooding out. As it was she’d been too nervous to say it out loud. Perhaps he hadn’t mentioned it because it was of no consequence. Perhaps he’d checked and thought her mistaken. Either way she hadn’t been able to say it out loud. Give it a day or two. He might come back to her, mention her message and then she would tell him what she’d seen. It might mean something. It might mean that her hunch was correct.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Honey smiled and thanked Carl Tompkins for pulling out her chair.
He did the same for Lindsey. She thanked him too.
‘All lovely ladies deserve gentlemanly attention,’ he purred.
Carl was trying too hard and Honey didn’t miss the way his hands lingered on the back of Lindsey’s chair, his fingertips brushing her shoulders.
She glanced at Drury, Lindsey’s boyfriend. He showed no sign of having noticed Carl’s lingering fingers, though an amused smile lifted one side of his mouth.
Her attention turned to Steve Doherty. His expression was closed so she found it hard to tell what he was thinking. His eyes failed to meet hers.
She wouldn’t know what Doherty thought of him until this meal was over they were alone. At present he seemed doggedly insistent on being pleasant to everyone. Was his demeanour sincere or was he keeping his cool for his daughter’s sake?
Honey was seated next to Rachel and opposite Drury. Doherty sat on the other side of Rachel. Carl was sitting between Rachel and Lindsey. Not ideal, thought Honey; a young woman on either side of him. For the second time in barely twenty minutes she sensed he was paying more attention to her daughter than he was to Rachel. Ok, Lindsey, looked gorgeous and she wasn’t thinking that purely because Lindsey was her daughter.
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